


little birds

by gl_bgolyb



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blood, Discussion of substance abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Infertility, Miscarriage, Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 05:37:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10892811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gl_bgolyb/pseuds/gl_bgolyb
Summary: Roxy attempts to spite her alternate self and her failures. Roxy fails.





	little birds

It wasn't an easy beginning. 

... 

You were aware of the risks. Rose had confronted you before you were even aware that you were going to _start_ trying, her hands on your shoulders. She was taller than you, a growth spurt kicking in a little before her wedding, and it made you feel odd, a displaced sense of aging as you watch your (ectobiological) daughter grow up. 

She explained that your alternate, the woman who raised her, had been a drunk for more reasons than you knew. "I think she never really got over it," said Rose, sitting you down on her couch. Kanaya was off somewhere on a pale date, and you still weren't really aware of what Rose's words meant. "I know before she found me she lost one shortly before it was due, and there was...evidence she lost a few early on during my childhood. I didn't really understand the significance it had on her psyche but it definitely triggered some of the less favorable outbursts with alcohol." 

You had asked her why she was telling you. Was she still grieving? Was there any way you could help? 

"Roxy, you and her are paradox clones," she said, trying to keep her voice gentle and without any inclination that she had Seen things you didn't want to know. "Just be...careful going forward, okay?" 

... 

Punching walks doesn't help anything, but damn, it felt good. 

Your knuckles were scraped and bleeding when you finished, and your throat hurt, eyes burning. Calliope stood in the doorway, swallowing and blinking. "Roxy--" 

You hit the concrete with the side of your fist, wincing at the popping sensation of your wrist. "Busy." 

"This isn't _healthy_." 

"Great observational skills." 

Your fist hit the garage wall straight on, a sick pop sounding before you pulled back your hand and went again with the other. "Really _genius."_

Your voice started to rise in volume and you started talking too fast, too many petty insults flying alongside your fists, and when your palms were slick with blood, you heard the sigh in the doorway. 

Your heart dropped when you saw her face. "Oh. Honey, I'm sorry I didn't mean--" 

"Just stop trying to do this," she muttered, not looking at you anymore. "It's turning you into something that you're not." 

She left and you slumped over, pausing before licking the blood off of your hands. 

... 

You woke up sweating and groaning on your sofa, overcome with what felt like cramps but more _violent_. By the time you dialed Jane, you had bled through your skirt and could feel the unmistakeable pull that you feared for the last fourteen weeks. "Janey," you said, heaving as another contraction snapped you in half, "Janey please I need you I'm losing him oh god Jane please--" 

Jane was saying something but it hurt too much to concentrate on her words, and you squealed and dropped the phone as you became a fountain. You tried to be stable and not fall and gripped onto the back of the couch and were screaming when Jane got there, sobbing uncontrollably as she delivered your tiny baby and put the little body in a box. 

He couldn't even fit in your hand. 

... 

Your girlfriends didn't necessarily understand the extent of why you were hurting, but they tried to help the best they could. Callie would stroke your hair and suddenly took on the role of telling you that you were beautiful, kissing you gently and rubbing lavender perfume onto your wrists. Jane would run her fingers down your back, helped you stand up in the mornings when you felt truly hopeless, and held you for those long hours when you couldn't stop shaking. 

Together they'd make you meals and get you outside, take you to see carapacian gardens and palaces, and you curled up between them at night and slept without dreams. 

... 

Everything was relatively normal again when Rose called you. "I hate to use the term 'spoiler', but you really shouldn't throw out that stuff in the nursery. It may come in handy." 

"Uh--wait. Is Kanaya--" 

"No! Trolls can't--Roxy, it's you." 

She rambled about fortuitous outcomes and seeing yours and for a minute you couldn't stop blinking. "For real?" 

"Positively." 

You said goodbye shortly after and took a long moment before smiling. It was hesitant but it was definitely a start.

**Author's Note:**

> self indulgent writing is a cool way to cope with your own trauma--10/10 would recommend.


End file.
